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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25594327">I Cried For You (But You Weren't That Far Away)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIronMechanic/pseuds/TheIronMechanic'>TheIronMechanic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Endgame Fix-It, Gen, Irondad, Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:29:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,541</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25594327</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIronMechanic/pseuds/TheIronMechanic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Spider-man’s real name is Peter Parker!”</p><p>His head doesn’t stop spinning, trying to understand what’s going on, what to do next. His senses are too busy trying to stop his body from shutting down that he doesn’t hear the footsteps going down the alley until it’s too late to react.</p><p>“Kid?”</p><p>“Mr. Stark? You- you aren’t real”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Cried For You (But You Weren't That Far Away)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I know. I know. "You still haven't finished Undervalued!" I know. But I don't have as much inspiration as I used to, so until something comes, I have decided to write other things that come to mind and see if I get the inspiration to continue that fic.</p><p>Either way, here you have a fix-it of sorts of Endgame, based on what my brain thinks would be a great beginning of the 3rd Spider-man movie if Tony hadn't died :')</p><p>As always, English is not my first language, so all mistakes are mine.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Spider-man’s real name is Peter Parker!</em>”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He forgets how to breath. The world starts spinning. The only sounds around him are gasps and screams. He always knew the truth would end up coming out, but not this soon. Not like <em>this</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A murderer, that’s what they are calling him. They think he killed a superhero. Him. Spider-man. Friendly neighborhood Spider-man. A <em>murderer</em>. That’s something he never thought he would hear.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He has no idea what to do. How to react. Does he run? Does he try to explain? Who would listen to him anyways? If he runs, people might think he really <em>is</em> guilty. But what if he stays? They might just come for him, linch him, whatever they think he deserves for doing something he never did.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Go!” Between all the screaming, he registers a voice, MJ’s. “Just go!” He turns around, meeting her eyes. “Hide!” Her eyes are pleading, demanding even, for him to just go, to run and hide. But can he? Where would he even go? He can’t go home, it’s more than likely pubic knowledge by now.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>May</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What about May? He has to find her, he <em>needs</em> to find her, to make sure she’s okay, that she’s safe-</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll find her! Just go!” MJ seems to read his mind, as always.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His limbs seem to react before his brain does, because before he even notices, he’s swinging away from the screaming masses from Times Square, finding himself a secluded corner on a fire escape ladder on an alleyway. Needing to breath, he takes his mask off, sits down roughly on the ground, rests his head on the wall looking up and breaths. Or at least he tries to.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">‘<em>Breath Peter, breath.’</em></span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Before he knows it, he’s crying. Tears are running down his face but he doesn’t even notice them. They run down his face freely until they fall on the ground, making a sound only noticeable by him, thanks to his enhanced senses. Focusing his energy on the steady rhythm of his tears falling, he’s able to forget for a minute what’s going on around him, and for once he is thankful.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He has no clue how long he just sits there, he doesn’t even know if anyone has seen him there without his mask. But does it matter anymore? Everyone knows by now. Everyone’s seen his face on the big screen. Sure, there’s no proof backing it up, just Misterio’s word, but for the whole world he’s a superhero, right? Everyone believes the word of a superhero.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Well, he <em>is </em>a superhero, unlike him. But in this moment, that doesn’t seem to help at all. He has no plan, no next step, nowhere to go, no one to ask for help. Nothing.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His head doesn’t stop spinning, trying to understand what’s going on, what to do next. His senses are too busy trying to stop his body from shutting down that he doesn’t hear the footsteps going down the alley until it’s too late to react.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kid?” His lungs stop receiving air and his tears stop abruptly. That can’t be right, that voice is too familiar to be true. His eyes move from the sky to the ground, staring at the only human form he can find. His eyesight is blurry due to all the tears still gathered in his eyes but once he dries them all he sees it. He sees <em>him</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who-“ He gets up abruptly, almost falling off the fire escape.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kid-“ The man takes off his baseball cap, letting him finally see his face.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Mr. Stark</em>? No-” He rubs his eyes, trying to convince himself that it isn’t real, that <em>he</em> isn’t real. “No no no no. You- you aren’t real. You aren’t real. You aren’t <em>real</em>!” He ends up screaming, not being able to contain himself anymore.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kid, come on. Come down from there. I’m here to help you.” He just stares, taking in every detail, trying to find out who this man really is.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You are not- <em>him</em>! I’m not falling for your tricks again Beck!” He jumps down, wanting to see him closer, but still far away from his reach.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry okay? I will explain everything, I swear, but you have to come with me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come with you? I’m not going <em>anywhere</em> with you. I don’t know who the hell you are. You can’t be Misterio because he’s <em>dead, </em>so I have no clue who you are but I’m not going anywhere with you! Mr. Stark is dead! <em>Dead</em>!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kid, look-“ he sights “it’s me, okay? I know it sound impossible but it is.” Seeing as he gets no reaction from him, he keeps going. “Remember that day in my lab when you tried to fix one of my gauntlets but you used the wrong parts and it started flying around, hit a window and broke it? Remember how I told you it wasn’t a big deal?” He stares into the kid’s eyes, finding a glimpse of recognition. “Well, it turns out it <em>was</em> a big deal, because Pepper kind of grounded me for a week doing stupid paperwork-“ He finds himself rambling, stopping himself before it goes too far.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Mr. Stark</em>?” Tears run down his face once again. He starts walking towards him slowly, trying to convince himself that it isn’t a dream, that Mr. Stark, who is supposed to be dead, his mentor, the man who sacrificed himself for the world, is <em>really</em> here. Alive. <em>Alive</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Memories of the man’s funeral come to his mind, images of him crying his eyes out that day and every day for months after that. The feeling of relief because he really is alive, the happiness he feels, quickly disappear, replaced by hurt, disappointment and betrayal. He’s been alive for almost a year, and he didn’t tell him?</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You-“ He stops walking “You were alive, and didn’t <em>tell</em> me?” He sees the man’s hands clench into fists just as his eyes close.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry kid.” Once he opens them up again, he can clearly see some unshed tears, but he pushes his thoughts aside. “I know how you must feel, but you have to believe me when I tell you that I wanted you to know. I <em>wanted</em> to tell you as soon as I woke up, but I <em>couldn’t</em>”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I <em>mourned</em> you-“ he growls, anger visible on his face “-I <em>cried</em> for you. Another person I cared about <em>died</em> in front of my <em>eyes</em>. I was a mess for months! I still have nightmares every single night!” He starts walking forward once again, this time faster, stopping right in front of him. “I thought you were dead! You made me think you were dead! For <em>months</em>. How <em>could</em> you?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kid, I told you I wanted to tell you as soon as-“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It doesn’t matter anymore now, does it?” He laughs, no happiness behind it “I’m f- I’m <em>fucked</em>. Yeah.” He throws his arms in the air and laughs once again. “Yeah, <em>fucked</em>. That’s what I am.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s what I’m here for Peter, I’m here to help you.” He tries once again with no success.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And where were you <em>before</em> this happened, huh? Where? Why didn’t you come <em>before</em>? Why come now when the damage is already done? What-“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because I didn’t know anything about what was happening to you! Because everyone’s beentreating me like a <em>baby</em> that has just been born and keeping me in the dark for months! Because I haven’t started functioning as a human fucking being until two months ago! Because I thought you were in good hands, but apparently not! Because they think that I’m a fucking cripple that can’t take care of his damn kid who still thinks he’s dead!” The billionaire runs his hands through his hair, sighting. “If I knew what was going on kid, I would’ve put my ass on a suit and helped you. I wouldn’t have given <em>two flying fucks</em> if the whole damn world found out I was alive if it meant keeping <em>you</em> safe.” His left hand quickly lands on the kid’s shoulder, his right hand, - obviously prosthetic, as well as his whole right arm - land on the other shoulder a bit later. “I’m sorry kid. I really am. For everything.” Not being able to take any more of Peter’s tears, his left hand starts to clean them off his face, staying there for a couple of seconds before going to the back of his head and pushing him forward, hugging him as tight as possible. “You’ve got to understand Peter, that I didn’t want anything more than to tell you as soon as I was conscious. I wanted- no. I <em>needed</em> you by my side as much as I needed Pepper and Morgan. You are family Peter, okay? You are <em>my</em> family, and I never wanted this for you. I wanted to keep you safe, but I had <em>no </em>idea of what was going on. Please kid, you’ve got to believe me.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry Mr. Stark. I’m sorry. I just missed you-“ He mumbles on his chest.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey hey, it’s okay Underoos. It’s okay.” He runs his hand through the kid’s hair, trying to relax his trembling body. “I missed you too kiddo.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I don't know if I should continue this or not, depending on whether you like it or not. For now I'll mark it as incomplete. If you want me to keep going, let me know in the comments.</p><p>As always, kudos and comments are more than appreciated :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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